


Vegas, Baby

by Fabrisse



Series: Transformations [2]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-20
Updated: 2009-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-04 17:53:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Everything is consensual, but one act has some psychological issues which might trigger.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Vegas, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Everything is consensual, but one act has some psychological issues which might trigger.

As they left the Eugene police station, Hotch tossed Reid the keys. "You drive. I want to go over your field assessment with you so I can submit the final version from the airport."

"Should I be worried?" Reid adjusted the mirrors and pulled into traffic.

"It's mostly outstanding." Hotch frowned as they made two right turns. "The route to the highway was back there."

"Dutch Brother's coffee is here. If I'm driving, I want to be alert. What do you want?" He pulled into the drive through and ordered a giant extra sweet iced mocha.

"Just a small black iced coffee."

Reid added it to the order and followed the other cars in the line to the window. It took a few minutes.

Once they were seriously on the road, Reid began it. "'Mostly outstanding?'"

"You resolved a complicated case quickly. You interacted well with local LEOs, and, although they were skeptical of you -- well, skeptical of the BAU -- at the beginning, by the end of the case they respected you and your abilities."

"What's the 'but'?"

"I have to know you'll take care of yourself in the field. Twice I had to remind you to eat. I'll give you a pass on the sleeping because none of us knows when the nightmares will hit. You dealt with yours well and rested even if you didn't sleep. But I'm not certain you would have had lunch yesterday had I not offered you half my sandwich, and I'm damned sure you'd have skipped dinner."

Reid nodded. "Probably. I'm an adult. I can choose my meal times."

"Not in the field. Not on your own. I have to be able to trust that an agent I send alone or as lead agent will be at his best. I'm sure you can quote me the statistics on brain function and blood sugar levels." Hotch sighed. "In my earliest days in the BAU, I set an alarm on my watch for six hours after my meal. If I hadn't had anything between, say, breakfast and the alarm, I went and found myself lunch."

"I noticed you mentioned exactly how long it had been since you'd seen me eat last night."

"Some cases will always be tough. Frankly, I don't care if you carry a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread in your bag for emergencies. You can't be an effective agent if you run yourself into the ground." Hotch's voice was firm. "I have to be able to trust you on this."

"Understood."

"Your interview technique surpassed any expectations I might have had. You tailored your approach to the suspect and the situation. You assessed before you questioned. Moreover, when the suspect wasn't being helpful in a dangerous situation, you used outside resources to come up with a solution. My only hesitation is that you didn't share your multiple unsub theory right off the bat. I understand why you didn't with Williams and her deputies, but you had a partner on this case. I needed to know before the crime scene visit."

"_I_ didn't know until we saw the first bomb scene. The damage reminded me of the previous week's photo from the files and all of a sudden, I saw the five patterns."

"Before we got there you had no idea?"

"I'd just gotten Garcia's information about the earlier incidents, no pictures. Let's say I had the edges of the puzzle roughed out, but seeing the crime scene filled in the middle."

"You could have said it then."

"If we'd been alone, I would have. I thought it was better to talk to the Sheriff within the parameters of Morgan's profile until I had a chance to discuss it with you."

Hotch stared out the window at the passing scenery. "Fair enough. I'll move your ranking on that up to excellent and keep the descriptions succinct. Privately, you should have mentioned it when we picked up the takeout, not waited until I asked."

Reid hesitated. "All right."

"I would have given the same ranking for Morgan or Prentiss if they'd said the same thing. You had good reasons, but your timing was off. That's not irreparable. Not paying attention to your meals could be."

Hotch put away his notes. "Now we don't have to think about work for the rest of the weekend."

"This can be just a weekend -- a little gambling and a good meal between friends and colleagues." Reid watched the road a little more closely, and Hotch could see his knuckles whiten as he gripped the wheel.

"It could, if that's what you want." He paused to gather his thoughts. "What I want is the lover I found last night. We'll deal with the repercussions if there are any. Maybe this won't last. Maybe by the time I get on my flight Monday morning we'll both think it's a bad idea. But I'm happier today than I've been in a long time. So let's see where this takes us."

It was rare to see Reid grin. "Let's."

***

When they got to Vegas, Reid took his rental car and checked in to his cheap motel by the sanitarium before driving Hotch to the hotel he was staying at on the strip. He had a few words with the valet and paid a three day rate for unlimited access to the garage without being a guest of the hotel.

"That's expensive. Why did you do it?" asked Hotch as they waited in line for him to check in.

"I'll probably win enough to recoup anything I spend while I'm here."

"How much do you usually walk away with when you visit Vegas?"

"I try to limit it to five thousand. If I go over ten, I make sure to lose some of it." Reid said.

Hotch looked a little shocked. "Why?"

"If I win too much, it messes up my taxes. Plus I have to report it at work. And I'd like to keep off the casinos 'no play' list. It can be awkward to live here and have to worry about that." Hotch still seemed floored. "Think about it, if I know how to maximize my odds for winning, I can do it for losing when I need to."

"You could earn your living as a gambler?"

"I never wanted to."

"What did you want to do before Gideon lured you to us?"

"I don't know. I'm a good lecturer, but not a great teacher. I'm a competent, but not inspired scientist. I knew medical school didn't interest me. With the mathematics, I might have tried NASA. I love cryptography, but Mom's illness precluded my working for most of the intelligence agencies."

Hotch nodded. "I should have realized that would be an issue."

"One of my advisors was helping me organize a trip to Europe with some of my friends. Professor Fleinhardt was hoping I'd come to cosmology eventually, but thought seeing more of the world would help me define myself. Gideon called just before we were supposed to leave. He'd had an exception made for me so I could go to the academy right away. He even worked out my first field assignment so I could be relatively close to Mom."

"Here in Vegas?"

"Flagstaff," Reid answered.

They were called up to the counter, and Hotch was checked in efficiently. They found their way to his room without help, and as soon as the door closed behind them. Hotch pinned Spencer against the wall and kissed him. He began peeling the shirt from Spencer's body as he ran his lips over Reid's adam's apple. He licked at his clavicle as he pushed the shirt and jacket off.

Reid laughed when his wrists were trapped by his cuffs and managed to unbutton them behind his back as Hotch dropped to his knees and began to rub his face over Spencer's zipper.

Everything stopped. Hotch rocked back on his heels.

After a moment, Spencer knelt facing him. "Aaron?"

"I want to suck you."

Spencer gave a quick glance down and then back up to Aaron's face. "I believe you." He was gratified by Aaron's blush. "Why don't we try it in bed?"

Aaron looked away for a moment, but Spencer pulled him back with a kiss. "You've never even been attracted to a man before, have you?"

"No. At least, I've never been aware of being attracted to another man." He met Spencer's eyes. "I _am_ attracted to you."

Spencer pressed his hand to Aaron's erection and smiled at the twitch. "I can tell." He stood and brought Aaron to his feet. They kissed gently, deeply. "It's a big step." Spencer turned down the covers on the bed and sat down, looking up at Aaron and undoing his belt. "I have a suggestion."

"Anything would be helpful." He was mesmerized by the sight of Spencer taking his clothes off.

"Two suggestions. The first is take your clothes off, too."

Aaron laughed and started to comply. "And the second?"

"Try licking rather than sucking." He lay back with his hands behind his head and watched as Aaron finished undressing.

Aaron climbed in beside him and started tracing his hands over Spencer's ribs and stomach. He liked watching Spencer's skin twitch and flutter in response to his touch, and when Spencer gave a gasping half laugh, Aaron thought he'd found gold.

One of Spencer's hands stroked his shoulder, and Aaron came up to claim a kiss. Spencer pulled him close and their bodies started rocking in to each other until Aaron pulled back.

"This is good," Spencer said.

"It is. I still want to try -- you know 'licking you off' just doesn't sound right." He was gratified when Spencer laughed again. Aaron ducked his head quickly while the younger man was off guard, and flicked his tongue over a nipple.

Spencer eased back down stretching himself like a cat as Aaron's hands and mouth mapped him.

Aaron was a little surprised he'd worked himself far enough down Spencer's body that his cock had nudge Aaron's chin. He changed his angle and, for the first time in his life, looked closely at another man's penis.

"I thought the trend against circumcision was more recent." Aaron knew that sounded awkward, but he really couldn't think of the right way to ask such an intimate question.

"My generation is still more circumcised than not, but the numbers began to decline in the nineteen seventies. Dad wanted me to be, partially because he was, I think. Mom thought I was perfect the way I was."

Aaron wrapped his hand around the shaft in front of him and gave a long pull. He watched the head slide in and out from the foreskin. "I agree with your Mom. Haley and I were both against it for Jack."

He extended his tongue and flicked it over the slit. He liked the sound Spencer made, so he did it again. Then he pulled the foreskin back and licked the entire head. He felt Spencer's abs tighten in response.

Aaron sat back and rearranged himself, this time between Spencer's legs. He licked a long stripe up the thick vein in the front and then used his lips to mouth his way back down.

A whispered, "So good," from Spencer let him know he was on the right track, so he concentrated on it for a few minutes.

He nudged Spencer's legs a little wider apart, and moved further down the bed. The vein he'd been licking went all the way back, so his tongue did too. Aaron took Spencer's sac in one hand and gently felt its weight. There was a sigh, but no tension, from above his head. He kissed the spots where he could feel the balls and then very slowly, worked his way back up.

Spencer was so aroused he was dripping. Aaron looked up the lean body and met Spencer's eyes. "I don't know the best way to finish this," he admitted.

"Mouthing the front of my dick some more would probably work. That was great. Or you could come back up here and just use your hands. Or you could combine some stroking and licking. I'm easy. Really, really easy, right about now."

Aaron laughed quietly. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed in bed. "Next time I try this, I'm bringing a glass of water to bed."

"Peppermint tea."

He propped himself up on his elbows and stared at Spencer.

"Believe me, it can help with the taste -- plus stimulation of the salivary glands."

"I'll bear that in mind." He licked his palm and wrapped his hand around the base of Spencer's shaft. "Show me your rhythm."

Spencer placed his hand over Aaron's and began a firm stroke. Aaron licked around the head again before concentrating on the rest of the shaft. He used his mouth and tongue in a strong counterpoint to the rhythm he was maintaining with his hand.

He adjusted himself a little so he could see his lover better. Spencer's head was thrown back and he watched as the orgasm built in the muscles of his body. He picked up the speed of his movements, never taking his eyes off Spencer's face, listening for the breath catching in his throat as he moaned, "So good."

All of a sudden, Aaron felt a twitch underneath his lips. He fluttered his tongue over the frenulum, and heard Spencer cry out. The next twitch happened and Spencer's release was pouring out over his body. Aaron loosened his hand but kept his lips pressed to the head of his cock until he felt it begin to soften.

Spencer was breathing like a horse who'd won a race and so was Aaron. He crawled up the bed and kissed his lover. When he felt Spencer's hand reach toward his groin, he stopped it. "I'm a bit sensitive at the moment."

Hair sweat-plastered to his face, Spencer turned to look at him. "You came?"

"When you did. Nothing like that's ever happened before."

Aaron found himself engulfed in a passionate kiss.

"That's the hottest thing I've ever heard," Spencer whispered.

***   
The first question Reid asked when they woke from their brief nap was, "What do you want to do?"

Hotch looked at him. "I can think of a few things."

"I meant out of bed. Although, if you just want to order room service, I'm fine with staying in. We have dinner reservations tomorrow night."

"We do?"

Reid nodded, "One of my few friends from high school works as a sous-chef at one of the top restaurants. He got us a table."

"Sounds good."

Reid picked up on Hotch's tone. "Shouldn't I have? I can cancel."

"No. It really does sound good. I'm actually a little embarrassed about the answer to your first question."

"'What do you want to do?' you mean."

"The conversation we had earlier … I'd like to see you gamble. Roulette or blackjack or something. I see your mind work, but I forget your main training's in mathematics not psychology."

"Gambling's not exactly a spectator sport. They'd ban me from the casino in ten minutes if I tried blackjack. I can't help counting cards, and they think it's cheating." Reid thought for a moment. "Definitely not roulette, the odds on all but the safest bets are too bad for the player. As a matter of fact, a player is expected to lose half a cent on every dollar he bets." There was another pause before he asked, "How do you feel about poker? Do you play? And by poker I mean stud or draw."

"I played five card stud in college occasionally. Penny ante. I think I won more than I lost, but it was never more than a few dollars."

"All right. First thing we're going to do is pay an exorbitant amount of money for the buffet at the Bellagio. Did you bring any money for betting?"

"I thought maybe two hundred dollars."

Reid laughed. "Two hundred dollars won't get us into the same room as a poker game. So, after eating, I will teach you how to win enough money at video poker for your stake. If you get down to fifty dollars, stop and let me take over your hand. Once we have about two thousand each, I know where we can find a low bet game. You'll probably lose your stake. If I'm the table winner, I'll give you back your two thousand. But there maybe someone there as good or better than I am."

"I'd rather watch you play."

"You can't. Not from close enough to tell anything. Let's eat. You can decide if we're going to try this afterward." Reid kissed his nose and headed for the shower.

***   
Over dinner, Reid had drilled him on the basics and then turned him loose on the video poker. Hotch had some small losses, but Reid's method for maximizing the odds had worked. If this last bet came in, he'd stop and they could go find a real game.

"I thought I told you to stop when you hit two thousand." Reid's voice came from right behind him.

"I was at nineteen-fifty when I started the last hand." Hotch checked out his screen. It read "2164."

"Cash out, and buy two thousand in chips. Figure you're doing this for entertainment. Anything you win is a plus. Anything you lose was Vegas money."

"Yes, sir." Hotch laughed.

"Be careful, I might like being called that." Reid herded him back toward Caesar's Palace and the poker area there. "It might be a few minutes before spaces open at one of the low bet tables. They aren't going to let us sit next to each other. And tip the dealer when you leave the table. If you've lost, it can be a dollar a hand. If you've won, well, I usually do one percent. Have a drink when the waitress comes around the first time. Keep the refills non-alcoholic."

"You've thought this all out."

"Did you know Nevada is the only state that doesn't permit calculators on its standardized tests? We're all trained young to understand how odds work."

Their wait for places at the same table was short. They'd been placed slightly offset from each other across the table. Hotch heard Reid order a gin and tonic, and was shocked at the tip he gave his waitress when she came back with it. He'd ordered a bourbon and water and tipped her less generously.

Hotch did his best to play well, but he knew he was out of his league fairly quickly. Reid lost a couple of hands toward the beginning, but Hotch noticed he'd bet only the minimums to keep himself an active player. After about the fifth hand, Reid's play became more aggressive. He bet higher on some hands, folded quickly on others.

His eyes were what Hotch noticed the most. Reid was always the last to pick up his hand, but he watched the other players' reactions. Twice players at the table exited and new ones took their places.

Hotch glanced at his hand. It wasn't very good, so he'd fold early to eke out the little bit he had left in front of him. Reid was winning steadily. He showed nothing Hotch could see, no tells as to whether a hand was good or bad, but the pile of chips was mounting in front of him.

The last player from their original table folded and left without a single chip. After his replacement lost two hands in quick succession, Hotch realized his own stack of chips was low, and he'd probably be out on this hand. The waitress had been good about bringing him soft drinks. He held back a couple of chips to tip her and the dealer, assuming this would be his last hand.

It was. The new guy at the table had driven the betting up quickly, and Hotch had been forced to fold. Reid kept calling the bets the others made until it was just him and new guy and a pot Hotch realized probably represented a year's salary for a rookie agent. Reid won with three of a kind.

He probably should have seen it coming, but, when he lost the hand, the guy made a grab for Reid. Hotch didn't even think about it, just blocked him smoothly and held him face down on the table.

Security came quickly. Two men took the guy away quietly. One man spoke to the dealer, and a gentleman in a well-cut suit came up to speak to Hotch. He presented his credentials and explained that he'd reacted instinctively to subdue. Hotch wasn't surprised when he was asked if he knew Reid.

Finally, the dealer was allowed to leave the table. Hotch tipped her and Reid gave her a five hundred dollar chip -- one percent of his take by Hotch's estimation.

He walked over to join Reid, and was just in time to hear, "I'm Mister Fry. There's a higher stakes game upstairs, if you'd care to join it, Doctor Reid."

Reid smiled. "I've mostly been showing my friend the sights. I don't know whether he'd be permitted to join us since he wouldn't be playing."

"If Mister Hotchner doesn't mind sitting where he can't see anyone's cards, he's welcome to watch. There are several people observing the game."

"Hotch?"

He had to think for a moment. Part of him was so turned on, he wanted to drag Reid back to the room and see what else they could do naked. But an even larger part was intrigued by the quiet persistence of Reid playing poker. "You should play a couple of hands. If you lose, we can always leave."

"All right." Reid gave him an intimate smile before turning to the other man. "Mister Fry, I'll play"

The private suite was on the tenth floor. Five men were sitting around the table and the dealer was sitting on a sofa in the corner when they entered.

Fry introduced them both as soon as the current hand was complete.

"I'm Bob," said a large man across the table. "This is a friendly game, son. I hope you don't mind that we're not using the professional dealer."

"Actually, I prefer having the professional deal when it's my turn. I'd prefer the professional throughout, of course, but I'll settle for having her deal for me."

"Now, son, that's just not friendly."

Hotch watched for Reid's reaction, but was surprised to see him smile.

He said nothing.

Finally, Bob broke the silence. "Sit down. Look, this is a brand new deck, and we'll let you have the first deal from it. Can't say fairer than that?"

"Tell you what, I'll deal this hand as long as no one puts any money on the table." Reid challenged the man cleanly.

"What's the point?"

"The point is, you'll understand why I want a professional dealer. Actually, since no money is involved, may my friend sit at the table?"

Hotch noticed Fry nod to the dealer, who sat by Reid. He took a chair at the table.

It wasn't like he'd never seen Reid do sleight of hand before, but most of the time he used a coin, not cards.

Reid shuffled quickly and efficiently, had the dealer cut, and then Hotch thought he saw him fan the cards fast before beginning to deal. Reid dealt both Hotch and the professional dealer in, but kept the spot in front of himself clear. When everyone had five cards, he asked each person in turn how many cards he needed and dealt the requisite number.

Hotch noticed he had six cards, three of which were the face cards in hearts. He put the other three down carefully, and requested two. He got the ace and the ten of hearts.

"My friend has a royal flush," Reid said. He went around the table and told each person the cards in his or her hand. He then turned to Bob, "Cold deck. Brand new. I want the professional dealer."

"Sure, kid. How'd you do it?"

"After she cut, I memorized the cards on the fan. I dealt from every part of the deck to make up the hands."

Hotch got up from the table, and Fry pulled him aside. "Is Doctor Reid planning to play any blackjack while he's here?"

"No. He was most emphatic about that."

"Glad to hear it, Mister Hotchner. I'll check in here again in an hour."

***   
When Fry returned, Reid had more than doubled what he'd come in with. As he finished the hand, he gave the dealer chips worth two thousand dollars. "Thank you for letting me play, gentlemen."

The men looked at their depleted piles of chips and waved him off.

Reid went straight to Fry. "I need to get the taxes settled on this immediately. I assume the casino can provide an accountant."

"Of course, Doctor Reid."

"Hotch, do you want to come with me, or head back to your room?"

"I'll come along, if only to make certain you're not mugged."

Mister Fry added, "We can provide you with a room upgrade at no extra charge. As a matter of fact, we'd be happy to comp your stay with us."

Reid glared at him. "What part of 'we're FBI agents' did you not understand? Neither of us could accept anything from the casino even if I hadn't won."

"No offense intended. I'll be back with the accountant on call in ten minutes." Fry left the room.

"Do you always settle the taxes immediately?"

"If I win more than ten thousand. It's one of the magic numbers for the IRS. By the way, what's Jack's social security number?"

"What?"

"Do you know your son's social security number?"

"Yes, but…"

"Hotch, I'm about to make a deposit to Henry's college fund out of all this. I used your money to get my stake, so I'd like to put money into Jack's college fund too. The IRS permits gifts of up to thirteen thousand without either party paying tax on it. Most of it will go to charity, plus a gift into my mom's expense account at Bennington so she can buy books and pens when she needs them."

"Haley will kill me, but no. Maybe if you win like this again sometime, if you know Jack better, I'd accept it."

Reid nodded. "That makes sense. Is it okay if I make tomorrow my treat?"

"Well, you were already buying dinner." Hotch's smile was soft.

"Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon?"

"No. Isn't it in Arizona?"

"There are helicopter tours from here. I've never just played tourist. But I loved the Canyon when I was in Flagstaff."

Hotch looked at the stack of chips and grinned. "I think I'll enjoy being a kept man tomorrow."

***   
They'd started the day with pancakes at a place Reid knew not far from Bennington. Hotch came in for a few minutes because it might make Diana Reid more suspicious if he didn't.

The Grand Canyon tour had been breathtaking. Reid told the guide to be quiet, and tipped him enough to get the silence with a smile. Lunch had actually been a snack on the floor of the Canyon not far from the river.

When they returned in the afternoon, Reid sent him upstairs with instructions to meet by the lobby elevators at ten minutes to seven.

Hotch came down exactly on time. Reid stood there in a black suit with a black turtleneck. His mouth went dry.

"All my shirts were dirty. I hope you don't mind this," Reid said.

"No." He leaned forward and dropped his voice. "You look gorgeous."

Reid stepped back and looked Hotch up and down. "I could say the same to you." He glanced at his watch. "Come on. We don't want to be late for our reservation."

They walked into the Guy Savoy, and Reid gave his name. They were shown to a good table, but not given any menus.

A couple of minutes later, a man in his mid-thirties came out and clapped Reid on the shoulder.

"Hotch, this is Peter Craig. We went to high school together. Pete, my boss, Aaron Hotchner."

"Damn. My boss won the bet. No shellfish either."

Hotch looked puzzled.

Reid smiled. "I've never asked, but I don't think Hotch keeps Kosher."

"No. We were Lutherans." He felt a little lost.

"Oh." Pete brightened. "Any allergies? Spencer here wasn't sure."

"None." Hotch thought for a moment. "How did you two become friends?"

Reid interrupted and said to his friend, "Join us for a glass of wine, and you can tell him."

Pete signaled to a waiter who brought a bottle of water, a bottle of wine, and an extra glass. After the wine had been poured, he called the waiter over and whispered in his ear. "Just sending back the instructions and letting them know I'll be out here for a couple of minutes."

He took a sip of wine. "Anyway, I was a sophomore when this guy was a freshman, but it's Spencer so we shared geometry class. Third week, he asks me a couple of questions, and, I don't know, it's been a bad enough class that I answer them. He goes all quiet, and a day or two later, I'm called into the nurse's office and given an eye test. They're about to send me back when the nurse notices I hold my head funny when my right eye is covered. Sure enough, I need glasses. Then they tell me I have to stay after school and give me a whole battery of other tests. Turns out, I was an undiagnosed dyslexic. It's mild, but it was enough to have an effect on my grades."

"You noticed someone else's learning disorder at age ten?" Hotch stared at Reid.

"Pattern reader. You use me to do the same thing every day on cases."

Pete laughed. "At first, I thought I hated Spencer. Glasses were not cool, and they rearranged my class schedule, but by the end of the semester, my grades had gone up. So I thanked him. The next year, I kept a few of the bullies away, too. Not enough, but some."

Reid shrugged. "You did what you could. You weren't exactly built like Superman."

"Don't tell my girlfriend that. She thinks I've always been perfect." Pete stood. "I hope you gentlemen enjoy your meal. I'll check on you with the dessert." He picked up his glass and walked back toward the kitchen just as the waiter brought small plates with oysters, caviar, and a citrus sauce.

"Tasting menu?"

"Chef's whim." Reid grinned. "I love doing this."

"I'm surprised. I didn't think you were so adventurous." Hotch's comment was off-hand.

He noticed Spencer tense up a little, and then saw him deliberately relax.

"I said something wrong there, but I'm not sure what it was."

Reid nodded. It took him a moment to think how to say it. "Have you ever seen me turn down food?"

"Other than pork -- and as you said in Eugene, I don't think anyone on the team eats pork any more -- no I haven't."

"So why would you think I'm not an adventurous eater?" Reid let it sink in for a moment. "I'm not on the Asperger's spectrum. I had myself tested before and after I went to Cal Tech."

"Damn." Hotch took a bite of the food in front of him. "This is good."

"Wait 'til you try the artichoke soup."

"I never thought you were. I didn't realize that I was projecting a particular type of behavior onto you until you called me on it, just now."

Reid shrugged. "It happens. There was that unsub who was trying to impress Gideon and made reference to my 'autistic leanings,' and Morgan does it sometimes. I don't think he realizes it."

Hotch lowered his voice to say, "But you thought better of your lover."

Reid locked eyes with him. "The FBI would probably frown on any public displays, so please save that voice for the bedroom. Otherwise, I can't be held responsible."

Hotch swallowed hard. "This is only the first course. How many more will there be?"

"Chef's whim. I've never known him to have more than eight." Reid took a sip of his wine and his eyes danced with amusement.

"I'm not sure I can last that long without touching you." Hotch felt Reid's foot and leg press against his under the table just as the waiter brought the artichoke and truffle soup.

***   
They walked slowly toward Aaron's room after dinner.

The meal had been exquisite; no one dish was so large as to be filling, but all of them together melded into something extraordinary. No bill was presented. Pete came out to talk to them for a moment over their vanilla pots de crème and coffee. When they were done, Pete and Reid had stood, and Hotch had joined them as Pete escorted them from the restaurant.

"How?"

"I covered it all, including the tip, last night out of the winnings."

Hotch shook his head as they walked to the elevators. Reid started to turn toward the garage.

Hotch looked at him. "You're staying." His voice brooked no argument.

They made it to the elevators and Reid said, "I've always hated the fact that they mis-spelled 'Vestal Virgins' on the doors." He pointed to the brass door that said "Vestral."

"I'll notice that every time now."

"Welcome to my world."

They stood on opposite sides of the elevator car with a crush of people between them. Reid wondered if the other people could feel the erotic tension between them. He knew that if he so much as caught Hotch's eye, he'd have him pressed against the wall, and to hell with the crowd.

When they got to Hotch's floor, they walked side by side, careful not to touch, mindful of the security cameras.

Hotch opened the door to his room and motioned Reid through the door. He hung the do not disturb sign on the door, and then turned his attention to the man with him.

He framed Spencer's face with his hands and drew him into a slow, wet kiss. "Every single thing we were served was an aphrodisiac." His voice was low and intense.

Spencer grabbed Aaron's tie and pulled him to the bed. "There are no proven aphrodisiacs. The science indicates it's all just suggestion."

Jackets were thrown over chairs and tongues clashed as they battled to keep touching and undress at the same time.

"Your leg pressing against mine was a hell of a suggestion. I've been hard since I saw you in the lobby."

Spencer locked eyes with Aaron and pulled his sweater over his head. Aaron's hands immediately gravitated to the warm flesh, and Spencer groaned at the sensation of flat palms over his nipples.

"How do you think I feel? I have to see you looking sexy in a suit every day. The couple of times you've loosened your tie on the plane home, I nearly tripped on my tongue." Spencer removed Aaron's undershirt and immediately began to lick and suck at his clavicle. "Everything about you is so fucking hot."

Aaron fumbled at his trousers and got them off quickly as he toed off his shoes. He put his hands on Spencer's hips and slid them forward to undo his fly.

Spencer hissed at the sensation and stepped back to peel them off himself. He lay back on the bed, propped on his elbows, his eyes never leaving Aaron's.

As if drawn by a magnet, Aaron stretched himself over Spencer and claimed his mouth in a searing kiss. He thrust himself against Spencer, and then tried to arrange himself so their erections would rub together.

He was surprised when Spencer wrapped a leg around his butt and flipped them. "We need lube." Spencer dipped his head down to press his lips to Aaron's ear. "Are you going to be comfortable prepping me?"

Aaron swallowed hard. "You'll tell me what to do?"

Spencer nodded, and then got out of bed. He fumbled in his jacket pockets and threw several sample packets of lube and a couple of condoms on the bed.

"You headed toward the garage after dinner." Aaron raised one eyebrow.

"I was trying to be a gentleman." Spencer grinned.

"Considering how prepared you are, I would have thought you were trying to be a Boy Scout."

Spencer crawled back in beside Aaron who began to kiss him. He was pressed back into the mattress by Aaron's weight, and he let himself be mesmerized by the sensations. He moaned low in his throat when Aaron's hand wrapped around his penis and stroked him slowly. He tore open a packet of lube and used it to wet Aaron's finger.

Aaron slid it back and found Spencer's hole. His finger slipped inside and then he pulled out and got more lube. This time he let his finger go a little deeper.

Spencer said, "Press forward a little," and then groaned at the sensation when his instructions were followed. "I'm ready for another." He kissed Aaron's chin.

Their eyes met and Spencer said, "And there's no such thing as too much lube."

Aaron kissed his nose, then held out his hand. Spencer opened another packet, and, after a moment felt the sensation of two fingers breaching him. He relaxed into it and was rewarded with sensations as Aaron found his prostate again. The fingers thrust inside him gently, spreading the moisture, opening him.

After a few minutes, Aaron withdrew and this time three fingers slid inside.

He unrolled a condom onto Aaron's cock, coated it with lube, and pushed his lover back on the bed. "Can you hold yourself steady?"

Aaron's fingers slid out of him as he grasped his own erection.

Spencer lined himself up and sank down. When the head was in, he stopped and breathed through it, letting himself adjust to the thickness. After a few breaths, he slid further down, until Aaron filled him. He leaned forward to claim a kiss, and then adjusted as he moved up and down. When he finally found the angle that gave him the most pleasure, he smiled sweetly down at his lover.

Aaron sat up and wrapped Spencer close. He could feel Spencer's cock get harder, and he ventured a little push. He was rewarded with a gasp as Spencer pressed a messy kiss to his mouth.

The heat between them built. Sweat slicked them both as they strained toward completion.

The sounds Spencer was making thrilled Aaron, and he dipped his head to tease a flat, brown nipple. "I'm close, Spencer."

"Yes. Good. Come." The words were breathed into Aaron's ear, and he thrust upward and came hard in response.

Aaron flopped back on the bed, feeling boneless for the moment. Spencer moved gingerly and disposed of the condom.

As he climbed into bed, Aaron realized Spencer was still hard. "I'm sorry. I didn't notice. What would you like?"

"Your hands on me. Unless there's something you'd like?"

Aaron cupped Spencer's balls in one hand and began stroking him with the other. "I love watching you. You're so responsive." He brushed his lips along Spencer's collarbone and enjoyed the moan he heard. He increased the rhythm of his stroke and teased Spencer's lips with his tongue.

When Spencer began to writhe, Aaron kissed him.

Spencer arched his chest upward as he spent over Aaron's hand.

They lay close together, sharing little touches, for several long minutes.

"We should shower," Aaron said. "Like the other night."

"Have you seen the size of that tub? I want a bath with Jacuzzi jets. And maybe a cup of tea."

"You can be very demanding." Aaron grinned.

"I'll go start filling the tub."

Aaron made a couple of cups of herbal tea. He wondered briefly if Spencer had requested it from Fry. He handed Spencer his cup and stepped into the bath to sit facing him.

They both relaxed into the warm water for a moment.

Finally, Aaron said, "Did you want that? I couldn't tell."

Spencer sipped his tea. "I did." He drank some more. "It's a psychological thing for me. The guy I was involved with in college?"

Aaron nodded that he remembered.

"He kept trying to get me to … He kept trying to fuck me even though I told him I didn't want to. When he went a little too far one night -- and no I wasn't raped -- he found out how strong I was. I kicked him out and never let myself be alone with him again."

"Never tell me his name." Hotch was laying down the law.

"No. You're at the end of a line, you know. But it made me nervous." He gave a quick, tight smile.

"We never had to. I enjoyed the other way so much."

Spencer put down his cup and stretched himself over Aaron. "I know. You didn't ask me. I offered. I'm glad we did."

They held each other close for awhile, before making their way back to bed.

As he drifted off to sleep, Aaron began, "I'm in lo…" A hand came up and stopped his mouth.

Spencer brushed his fingertips over Aaron's forehead and looked him in the eye. "Too many endorphins. Tell me six months from now."

Aaron nodded and was rewarded with a gentle kiss.

When Aaron's breathing evened out in sleep, Spencer whispered against his shoulder. "I want you to have everything."

**Author's Note:**

> I can't thank DelorisPea enough for her cheerleading on this and the next one in the series. This story is set immediately after _Taking the Lead_.


End file.
